Page 17 of A Slice of Love

It’s upheld when he peels my shirt off, and then his own. When he lays me back down wearing nothing but nerves and yearning.

And when I never tell him to stop, it’s verified that not only do my kisses tell him I want a future with him, they say something else.

I’ve completely fallen for Jonas Schwartz.

Slice Three

Jonas

Now

“If I have to listen to you say ‘go deeper’ one more time, I will murder you.”

“Well, then go deeper!”

“I can’t justgo deeper. That’s not how it works.”

“That isexactlyhow it works.”

My hand is raised, prepared to knock as I stand at the customer’s door, unabashedly listening to the very loud conversation the couple is having, brows raised with so many questions running through my mind.

The first one being,Did Ireallyhave to make a spectacle and almost blow my chance in the NFL so I can deliver pizzas for a living?

Answer: no. No, I did not.

But here I am. Standing at the door, pie in my hand, listening to some chick and her boyfriend go on about how he needs to go deeper.

I don’t know who I feel worse for in this situation, the chick or the dude.

Poor dude has a small dick, and she’s not being taken care of.

What a predickament to be in.

With reluctance—because I really don’t want to have to see mythirdnaked couple today—I rap my knuckles against the door.

There’s the now all-too-familiar shuffle.

The hushed, “They’re here! Grab the money!”

I brace myself for the swinging dick I’m about to encounter as I hear the knob turning.

The door is flung open and, to my surprise, the person standing in front of me is fully clothed.

Andhot.

I will not check out the customers. I will not check out the customers.

I focus on the task at hand, pulling open the insulated pizza bag.

“Good even—”

“Holy moly.” The words drop from her plump lips on a whisper, her big, brown eyes widening. “Jonas.”

My brows shoot up when she addresses me by name, and I give her my full attention.

Something about her seems familiar, but I can’t recall where I’ve seen her. Maybe a party or two? There’s only one person I’ve ever met with hair her color, but there’s no way that’s who is standing before me now.

I trail my eyes down the woman’s body. I know I didn’t hook up with her—I’d remember a body like hers. I let my eyes linger a moment, enjoying the way her jade tank top clings to her curves and stands out against her pale skin before getting my shit together and bringing my gaze back to her face. Her mouth is still ajar, the shock of me standing at her door not yet having worn off.

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